Garrus woke up with a bloody nose and a splitting headache. He was on the floor of Afterlife, the blaring music cutting into his skull like a blowtorch. Something rose up his throat, giving his mouth a sick taste. He clutched his ears and stood up, wobbling, trying to keep himself from throwing up where he stood.

A hand found his shoulder and helped him steady. For a moment he thought it was Shepard, but a glance showed it to be Crewman Hawthorne. Another arm hooked around his remaining side, that of Crewman Patel. They helped walk him out of Afterlife into the quiet air.

"Dude," Hawthorne asked, "what happened? One moment you were fine, then we turn our backs for five minutes and you're plastered."

He tried to ask about Shepard, to see what happened, but only a groan escaped his lips. His stomach suddenly heaved; unable to hold it back any longer, he turned and vomited right there on the street.

"I thought turians could hold their alcohol a little better than that," Patel said, trying to make light of the situation.

When his stomach finally stopped rocking, he took a few deep breaths and found his tongue again.

"What. . .what happened to Shepard?"

Hawthorne answered. "Last we saw, he was with you. You guys were only gone a few minutes before we saw you all passed out."

I don't like this. He only had one drink, and it wasn't particularly strong; for it to knock him out. . .

He pushed past the crewmen and moved into Afterlife. "Shepard!" He called over the techno noise these people called "music." He drove his way through the crowds, looking every which way, but Shepard was nowhere to be found; a new group had moved into the table they were sitting at, but they hadn't seen Shepard anywhere. He moved to the stairway at the back of the club, where a batarian bodyguard kept watch. The bodyguard let him through because he'd been there before, but nobody else was brave enough to go near his assault rifle.

Up the stairs was Aria's private lounge. Just as he thought, the asari was sitting on her couch, going over a datapad.

He didn't bother announcing himself. "Shepard's missing," he said.

Aria looked up from her datapad as though the least interesting thing in the world was interrupting her. "People usually at least say 'hi' before asking me for a favor."

Garrus walked as close as he could get to her before her bodyguards, all turian, trained their guns on him. "He disappeared here, right under your nose. You know everything that goes on on Omega. Do you know what happened?"

"Even if I did, what do I care what happens to Shepard? People go missing on Omega every day; that's part of the risk of being here. Momma Aria doesn't need to watch over wittle Shepard whenever he steps on my asteroid."

She's playing games with me. Aria was a shrewd woman, extremely secretive and unyieldingly ruthless. She showed up a few centuries before and single-handedly took over Omega. She was the best politician Garrus had ever known.

"You owe Shepard for saving your ass from the merc gangs."

Aria shrugged. "I would have found out about their ill-advised coup on my own sooner or later. Still, I suppose he didn't have to give me that info. . .and he got Archangel out of my hair." She snapped her fingers and two of her bodyguards lowered their guns to approach her. "See if you can find anything," she said to them. "And make it quick." When the guards left, she turned to Garrus. "Now, I want it understood that I owe you absolutely nothing, that anything I do for you in the future will be out of the kindness of my own heart and that it will be you who owes me henceforth."

Any kindness done out of the goodness of Aria's heart would have been miniscule indeed. "Understood, Your Majesty."

She grinned. "I like little smartasses like you. All the more fun for me to destroy. Patriarch was a bit of a smartass himself, once. Garrus, was it?"

"That's what they call me."

Aria leaned back in her seat. "Is that what they always call you?"

Garrus cocked his head at her. "I don't follow."

"I just find it an incredibly odd coincidence that Shepard came to me with two humans when he went looking for Archangel, but when he came back, Archangel was mysteriously dead and Shepard suddenly had a turian with him. A turian in dark blue armor."

Garrus paused for a moment. "Yeah. How about that. I guess Archangel and I both like the same color." He tilted his head slightly. "Of course, if I was Archangel, I'd be a little pissed if the guy I was working for got hurt while someone, say, a pretty asari queen, didn't do anything about it. Wonder how he'd feel?"

Aria's posture remained the same, but her grin dropped slightly. "Threats don't work on me."

"Threats? I was talking about Archangel and a queen. You and I are neither."

She appeared ready to respond to that, but before she could, the goons returned with a datapad and handed it to Aria. She examined the pad for a long while, until Garrus could hold it in no longer.

"What does it say?"

"Shepard was seen being carried out by some batarians. They had a human with them-a woman in a Cerberus uniform. She didn't appear to be a hostage."

Batarians and a human? Oh, spirits, no. "Who were they?"

Aria put down the datapad. "No idea. I keep a record of every ship that comes in and out of this station and everyone aboard it, but somehow these batarians got past me." She looked to her guards again. "This is starting to become a frequent occurrence. Am I going to have to do it all myself?"

Garrus' hopes sank into his feet. "So you have no idea who they are or where they may be?"

"I doubt they've left, but like I said, I wouldn't know if they did. Shepard pissed off pretty much every batarian in existence when he single-handedly won the Skyllian Blitz, so it's easy to see why they would kill him, but why abduct him? Unless they want to make some kind of example out of him."

Garrus knew another reason why. "Thank you for your help," he said absently. He turned and left, ignoring Aria's surprised reaction to his thanks. Everything felt muted, numb. He needed to get back to the ship and alert the crew; if Shepard was still on Omega, then maybe they could find him.

Hawthorne and Patel were still waiting outside of Afterlife. They each held their own version of a concerned look, Hawthorne with his brows knitted together and Patel standing as though she were ready to catch Garrus at any moment.

A human woman. . .

"What happened?" Patel asked. "Were you able to find Shepard?"

He looked at the two of them, meeting their gazes. Finally, he said, "Where is Goldstein?"

They looked at eachother. "She left right after you guys did," Hawthorne said. "Said she was feeling tired of Omega and was gonna head back to the ship."

Garrus radioed the Normandy. "EDI. Shepard's missing. Alert the crew and do a head count. Is Crewman Jenny Goldstein on board?"

"I will check," came EDI's response. A few moments later, her voice came through the radio again. "XO Joker has called for all hands to return immediately. Crewman Goldstein is not currently on board."

Garrus closed the channel and marched back to the direction of the ship. Hawthorne and Patel followed, their faces becoming more and more concerned with each passing step.

"You don't think. . .?" Patel finally said.

"Impossible," Hawthorne replied. "I know Jenny. She's one of the nicest people on the ship. We ate together all the time."

"Let's wait till we get back to the ship before we start speculating," Garrus said. But he had already formed some speculations of his own. As much as he hoped they were wrong, each moment only seemed to heighten his suspicions.

Light returned to the world, bringing blinding pain to Shepard's head. He tried to hold his hand to his brow, but it didn't respond for some reason. Neither of them did. He realized after a moment that they were bound by omni-cuffs, the holographic interface undetectable by touch but just as binding as the steel handcuffs of old. He was on his side, his bare face squished against a cold metal floor.

"Garrus?" He mumbled. Nobody answered. He used his legs to raise himself up. He was inside a cell, a holographic box large enough to move freely but constraining him all the same. The cell "walls" were crackling with electricity; to touch them would be very painful, not to mention pointless. Outside the glowing orange light of the cell, he could make out a large room with a single door, with several cameras trained on him hooked onto the ceiling. The door displayed a glowing red lock indicating that it was sealed shut. His guns were gone, and he was unable to activate his omni-tool with his hands bound. He tried activating his radio with his shoulder.

"Joker?" No answer. "EDI. Garrus. Anyone. Respond." The line remained silent as death.

"They're not going to answer," he heard a voice say to his right. He jerked his body around. Sitting with her knees hunched to her shoulders was Jenny Goldstein, her eyes bruised and her lip bleeding. She stared at Shepard with an intense anger. "There's no signal in here."

"Goldstein?" He said. His throat was bone-dry, making his voice crack. He scooted around to face her. The woman wasn't bound like he was, but she kept her hands hugged around her knees. Her dark hair was a crusty mess; she appeared to have been bleeding. She scoffed when he mentioned her name.

"You're so fucking clueless, you know that?" She let go of her knees and got to her feet.

"What are you talking about? What happened?"

Suddenly the woman broke into hysterics. "YOU HAPPENED!" She waved her arms around the cell as if demonstrating it to a tour group, her voice escalating to the pitch of a lunatic. "All of this is your fault, you and goddamned Anderson! If they had just left me alone. . .but no! Let's give it all to some fucking colonist lickboot hick and his band of merry men!" She moved in close and kicked Shepard in the stomach, making him double over in pain, unable to raise his arms to protect himself as Goldstein kicked him again in the ribs. She raised her foot as if to stomp on his head, but before she could, Shepard heard the familiar click of a gun come from the entrance to the room.

"Now, now," the batarian said, training the gun on Goldstein. "After all we went through to get Shepard unspoiled? Nobody wants to purchase damaged merchandise." He jerked his head to the side. Goldstein stomped over to the edge of the cell; the gun could be fired through the holographic wall if need be, but the shot had to be accurate or the prisoner could use the temporary rend in the interface to escape.

"We had a deal, Fazrak," Goldstein said. "You get Shepard, I get the Normandy. That was the deal!"

Shepard stared at the batarian. Fazrak? The lower lids to his four black eyes were turned upward in amusement, his yellowed fangs showing a perverse smile.

"Yes, that was our deal. . .but then I got an even better offer for the whole package: Shepard, and the famous Normandy. Half the payment's already gone through; I just need to turn Shepard in to our clients, and that'll be it." He put the gun down. "Be nice, and I might share twenty percent of the payout with you. Then you can buy ten ships all for your pretty little self."

"Go fuck yourself. I'll pay double whatever you were offered."

"Oh, I doubt that." Fazrak trained his eyes on Shepard. He felt like he was looking into the face of the devil itself. "Say what you want about the Collectors, but they could buy a planet for what they're offering for you." Fazrak winked two of his eyes. "I told you I'd see you soon." He held up his arm and activated his omni-tool, turning his gaze back on Goldstein. "You, however, are worthless. I wonder how the good Commander will enjoy the free use of his limbs with you right in easy reach?" He input a few commands and Shepard's arms suddenly jerked free, the omni-cuffs deactivated.

"That was a mistake," he said to Fazrak, rising to his feet.

The batarian merely grinned. "I think you'll be on your absolute best behavior. I'll let you tell him why, Ellie. Now, I have places to be, money to make. It's been fun catching up, Shepard." The moment he turned his back, Shepard charged the cell barrier, getting nothing but a jolt of electricity for his trouble. The shock knocked him on his ass, but didn't do any real damage as far as he could tell.

He got to his feet and turned toward Goldstein. The woman looked at him the way someone trapped in a cage with a wild tiger might look, her eyes wide with fear and a general anger at the whole situation, as though she felt utterly stupid for getting into this predicament in the first place.

"You're the mole," he said, taking a step closer to her. His fists tightened. A black rage was building in his stomach.

Goldstein crossed her arms, but Shepard could see her shaking somewhat. He liked that. "Just figured that out?" She said. It was the wrong thing to say.

Shepard lunged forward, grabbed her by the hair and tossed her against the nearest barrier, which pushed her back with its own force. She grunted in pain and surprise as she fell back onto her hands. Shepard pinned her down and got right in her face.

"Why?" He asked. "What have I done to you? We never even fucking met, and you go to all this trouble-for what? Money?"

She strained against his weight, but he kept her arms and legs pinned to the ground, rendering her powerless against him. Her head jerked up and around with the effort of trying to break free. She even tried biting at him, but he kept his face a safe distance from hers. Finally, her body went limp as she ceased to struggle.

"I want my ship back," she said, breathing deeply from her wasted efforts.

"Your ship? You mean the Normandy? What parallel universe are you from where that's your ship?"

"Dumbass. You think you're the first commander of the Normandy? Before you, and before Anderson, when that ship was first built and nobody even knew what it could do yet, I was stationed as its commanding officer. It was mine first and it should still be mine!"

Shepard's limbs began to cramp with the effort of keeping he restrained, she he rolled off of her and stood, allowing her to do the same. "Explain yourself," he said.

She scoffed at him. "You think you're top shit because you beat Saren three years ago. The great Commander Shepard, savior of the galaxy and the first human Spectre. That would have been me, if it weren't for that damned turian."

"Saren?"

"No, dumbass; Octavio Tatum. My name is Ellie Zander. I was given command of the Normandy when it was first made. Since the turians helped build it as part of our mutual post-war ass-kissing contest, I had to serve with Tatum, the chief engineer in charge of the systems. He had the gall to question my judgment on my ship, so I removed him from his post-he resisted, I used force, and then to prevent a diplomatic incident the Alliance removed me. An entire lifetime of work snuffed out in an instant all because of some politicians!"

This woman is nuts. "It sounds to me like you have some unresolved anger management issues."

She flipped him off. "I joined Cerberus after that, under a new name. At least they don't bend over backwards to appease aliens, unlike some of us." She grinned. "'Oh, Garrus, fuck me, Garrus, I'll do anything you want,'" she said in a high-pitched voice. "Disgusting. Why don't you fuck a dog while you're at it? At least those animals come from Earth."

If he had his guns, he would have shot her. Instead, he grabbed her neck and leaned in close. "Watch yourself," he whispered. "I have some anger management issues too. How do you know about my private conversations? Did you bug the ship after all?" He dropped her, letting her catch her breath in choking gasps.

"You never figured it out," she said. "That whole time, thinking it was in the battery. . .you were only half-right." She winked at him. Suddenly Shepard pieced it all together, what Tali had said about the bug moving, how they could never find it, what Fazrak meant about him being on his best behavior; all of it pointed to just one possible place. His knees weakened under him. Oh, dear God.

Zander saw him figure it out, and smiled victoriously. "Dogs aren't the only animals that can be tracked," she said. "When I found out you were with Cerberus, I just had to tag along and see the great Shepard in action. I was going to just bug your quarters when I had the chance, then kill you outright and desert the crew elsewhere, but then you started picking up your alien friends and ruined that for me. Thankfully, a wonderful opportunity came by in the form of a certain turian, one with a gaping hole in his face." She tilted her head with her damned smile. "Must hurt like a bitch."

Shepard grabbed her again. The cry she made after the first punch made him feel disturbingly satisfied. He kept hitting her as hard as he could.

Garrus scratched his face as he approached the ship. Ropal Kor's team had gone to work quickly; their speed had always been their most valuable asset for Garrus and his team. Parts and boxes and tubes and metal sheets were on the ground and in the battery, and the ship's guns were being dismantled. Garrus dismissed all of them, forgetting to even put on his Archangel helmet as he did so, and marched onto the ship with Hawthorne and Patel.

The rest of the crew had already gathered in the CIC. Joker stood hunched among them, trying to demonstrate a commanding presence despite his infirmary. Garrus often wondered why Shepard made Joker the XO; the man had never demonstrated a real propensity for leadership, as far as Garrus could see, and even if he did, his condition would make it so that anyone under him would feel superior to him-a terrible thing in a ranked system. But as Shepard's Executive Officer, he was the one in command if Shepard went missing. . .or worse. When he noticed Garrus, he immediately put his fingers to his lips and emitted a shrill whistle that would be impossible for turians to replicate. The CIC fell silent.

"Okay," he said. "All accounted for?"

"Jenny's still missing," said Crewman Rolston.

Hawthorne explained Jenny's disappearance and what Garrus learned from Aria. Joker looked to Garrus with a trace of fear in his eyes. "So we don't know where he is."

Murmurs went out across the ship. Miranda emerged from the elevator, omni-tool in hand. "I think I have something," she said. She input a few commands and the display of her omni-tool expanded to a large image of an email message. "I hacked in Goldstein's terminal," she said. "Since she's the only one missing besides Shepard, I figured she was most likely the mole."

Smart, Garrus thought. His own reservations about the woman aside, he had to admit that Miranda would have made a better XO than Joker. . .but Shepard didn't trust Miranda at the time he made his decision. Garrus probably wouldn't have trusted her, either.

Samara interrupted. "We do not know for certain if she is the mole or not."

"We do now," Miranda said. The message she displayed read as thus:

F:

What the hell are you doing? Shepard just pulled us all into the CIC and told everything. If he catches me, I'm going to tell him everything, do you understand? EVERYTHING. Hurry the fuck up or I'll take matters into my own hands.

-E

"I'm gonna kill that bitch," Joker said.

"We have to find her first," Garrus replied. "What do you suggest we do, Joker?"

"Look, if even freakin' Aria can't find him on Omega, how am I supposed to? We'd need a psychic or something."

EDI chimed in through the ship's radio. "Liara T'Soni is on the line, Jeff. Shall I patch her through to the debriefing room?"

"We're kinda in the middle of something important, EDI."

"She says it is vital to speak to you, Jeff."

Joker rolled his eyes. "Okay, everyone brainstorm while I see what the doctor wants." He hobbled out of the CIC and into the debriefing room. Garrus nearly followed him, but Miranda stopped him before he could.

"I need to speak to you," she said. "Come into my office."

She brokered no objection, grabbing his hand and pulling him into her office with a surprising amount of force. "Sit down," she said, pushing him into a chair.

"What's going on?" He asked as she started pressing her fingers into his scars. He was tall enough the she barely even had to bend over to reach his face, even when he was sitting down. A burst of pressure from her fingers sent a bruising shock of pain through his jaw and jerked his head away. "The hell are you doing, woman?"

"I was reviewing my old security footage," she said, moving away.

"You mean your spy vids?"

"Whatever you want to call it. I found something you should see." She opened her terminal to footage of the ship's med bay. "This is when we brought you in after your injury," she said.

The footage showed Shepard, Jacob and Miranda carrying Garrus into the med bay, dark blue blood coating their arms and dripping to the floor. He didn't see himself very well through the mess, but he didn't particularly want to. Judging from the perspective of the camera, Garrus figured it was placed up in the ceiling somehow. Chakwas kicked them all out of the med bay while she worked. He smiled as he saw Shepard pacing back and forth in front of the windows, watching, blue blood staining his skin and armor.

Miranda fast-forwarded through footage of people skipping in and out and around the med bay until she stopped it at a certain point. "This is an hour later," she said. "You're no longer in critical condition, but Chakwas is preparing surgery for your face. This is what I found." She played the footage again, and after a moment it showed Goldstein entering the med bay alone, looking around as if trying to remain unnoticed. She held something in her hand, but Garrus couldn't make out what. Miranda fast-forwarded the footage to half an hour later, when she emerged. Whatever was in her hand was gone, but Garrus could make out blue stains on her nails.

"What the hell? So what was she doing in there?"

Miranda crossed her arms. "I found it right after I heard that Goldstein was missing. Garrus, I know what's in her hand in that vid, and if I'm right, I know where it is."

When he finally understood, his eyes widened. "You can't mean. . ."

"Garrus," she said, "the bug's signal came from the battery, but the reason you and Shepard couldn't find the bug is because it's not in the battery."

He lifted his hand to his scars and pressed down on the sensitive flesh. "No, but I was."